5/27/2006

(torontosun.com 5/27/06) They won't see 40 again, they've broken up at least twice, their glory days were two decades ago and they haven't released an album of new material in five years. And yet Toronto has never stopped loving The Cult.

On their latest reunion tour -- the first in more than three years -- the British band has been playing to North American club audiences of up to a couple of thousand people.

Last night in Toronto, however, despite the cool, foggy weather, they nearly filled the Molson Amphitheatre with fist-pumping, hip-shaking fans.

It's a mystery why this particular city should be so smitten by The Cult's combination of big guitar riffage and wailing vocals, but the band was wise enough to be loudly appreciative, sending out lavish thank-yous along with the flying tambourines and non-stop rock.

The Cult has had a strange history filled with musical left turns, revolving rhythm sections, awkward hiatuses, rehab stints and waxing and waning sales.

Singer Ian Astbury -- who spent the past few years playing Jim Morrison in a new version of The Doors -- and guitarist Billy Duffy founded it in the early '80s, and have taken its sound from goth to punk to psychedelia to quasi-metallic classic rock.

Their critical and commercial peak happened when producer Rick Rubin helped them put it all together with monster guitar riffs and over-the-top vocals to make Electric, which spawned hits like "Love Removal Machine," and "Wild Flower."

And though the band has never matched that early success, they've continued to churn out enough similarly high-powered songs to keep the fans coming -- especially in Toronto.

Like a creaky but powerful old machine, last night's show took a while to get going, but eventually settled into an impressive, if not relentless pace.

A bearded, kerchief-topped Astbury sounded a little tentative on the opener, "Lil Devil," and its followup, "Sweet Soul Sister," but by the time he got to "Electric Ocean," which he described as obscure, and "Revolution," he was in fine vocal form, whooping and wailing as he beat the tambourine and maracas and Duffy churned out the punk riffs.

Chestnuts like "Spiritwalker" -- the band's earliest hit -- and "Rain" were followed by "In The Clouds" and, after a swig of Red Bull on Duffy's part, "Wonderland," which was dedicated to Doors manager Danny Sugarman.

Then the backing band of powerhouse drummer John Tempesta (White Zombie), bassist Chris Wyse and extra guitarist Mike Dimkich took a break while Astbury and Duffy did an acoustic take on "Edie (Ciao Baby)."

When they came back, it was time to take it home with "Fire Woman," "Peace Dog" and "Wild Flower."

There was no sign of new material, despite Astbury's claim that the band was "back for good this time -- no more rehab."

But as long as they can please this many people with old material, they won't have to worry about that. At least not in Toronto.

GRUNTING CHEAP BROAD

ONCE UPON A TIME WAIST HIGH HAD A STALKER AND HIS NAME WAS JED. JED IS THE REASON COMMENTS ARE DISABLED ON THIS LEGENDARY WEBSITE. JED HATED WAIST HIGH AND WAS AN IRRITANT TO HER FOR ABOUT 18 MONTHS. JED STARTED A BLOG DEVOTED EXCLUSIVELY TO HIS HATE BUT ONLY POSTED ONCE. ENJOY: TRASH DU JOUR

CAST OF CHARACTERS

THE KERN COUNTY DRUNKARDEverything at Waist High is a long story, and the story of The KCD is no exception. After this individual told Waist High in December of 2003 that she was going to kill her, "Waist High" the blog was born. Please do not tell Waist High the person that you are going to kill her or she will create "Waist High" the blog and write nasty things about you! Including the time you stunk up the bathroom at The Alley Cat. The "Kern County Drunkard Watch" detailed the drunken comings and goings of the live-in love interest of one of Waist High's most cherished male friends. Never has Waist High met anyone who drank as much as or as often as The KCD. The KCD, because she was an insecure drunk, hated Waist High for most of her decade long relationship with Waist High's most cherished male friend. She hated Waist High for the obvious reason: Waist High is hot. A one time source of much of the material for Waist High the blog, The "Kern County Drunkard Watch" was permanently retired in March 2005 when Waist High's most cherished male friend finally came to his senses and kicked her ass to the curb.

RAMPARTRampart is the first ex-husband of Waist High. She refers to him as her first ex-husband because she knows there will eventually be a second. Rampart grew up on the mean streets of Bakersfield and claims to have been the co-discoverer of the well known 1980s dirt field party spot known as "The Place." Rampart's 1987 directive to Waist High, "Drink this six pack before I get back!" made both Waist High and Rampart parents at age 20. Rampart currently resides 4.5 miles from Waist High in the wilds of Oregon and is an enduring fixture at their local Cigs For Less shop. Once a Bakersfield Del Taco associate, Sail Thru Hamburgers drive up dude, and Wible Road AM/PM graveyard worker, Rampart claims to now net $49,000 per month. But only to impress people, not when required.

(THE FORMER) LOVELY TEENAGED DAUGHTERNot your average 30 year old. Born to Waist High as a "Miracle on 34th Street" in Bakersfield Memorial Hospital on 34th Street, LTD is on the board of MAC cosmetics. Not really, but she swears allegiance only to them. When LTD's mother once purchased LTD some eye shadow from Target, LTD threatened to call the police. Sweeter than Tupelo Honey, with the attitude of a feral cat, LTD is disgusted with most things. Including being forced to live with Waist High from 1988-2005. The child at one time even had her own blog, "Living With Waist High," which detailed her misery. A graduate of the oldest institution in the Oregon University System, LTD kept her promise of not getting knocked up at age 20 like Waist High did.

THE STRANGEROh God bless The Stranger. The Stranger was one of Waist High's most loyal confidants during some of the darker periods of the blog. Although his fierce allegiance to really bad music was a great source of aggravation for Waist High, The Stranger gave her a much needed look at life. Through the eyes of someone not yet bitter. The Stranger was almost pushed out of a moving vehicle when he revealed to Waist High that not only did he not know who Barry Manilow, Captain & Tenille, or Spandau Ballet were, but that he literally had no clue what Trail Mix was.

"TRI-TIP"Special Correspondent to Waist High, and one of Waist High's most cherished friends. Used to live with The Kern County Drunkard. Was a Special Correspondent to Waist High for 9 months before knowing it. Long story. This individual coined the ultimate mid '80s Bakersfield drinking phrase, "Lock hubs. Party!"

DESIWaist High's former work spouse. Cares about Waist High so much that he once took Waist High with him on a smoke break the very next day after she spent $250 for hypnotherapy TO QUIT SMOKING. Was the first person in conversation to introduce Waist High to concepts like "The Dirty Sanchez," "Dog In A Bathtub," "Tea Bagging," and "The Shocker." Reminds Waist High as often as possible that if women "neglect the balls," their men will leave them.